TICK TOCK
by Neil Davies
Summary: On a mosty evening Kevin receives a call from a crotchety old man leading from his comfortable life to an extraordinary adventure.


TICK TOCK

17

TICK TOCK

Kevin wiped his eyes for the umpteenth time, this fog was really getting to him he could feel his chest tightening up and his sinus cavity throbbing. Why on earth had he come out on a night like this especially with his medication running low; he had only just gotten over a bad cold that had kept him out of work for a week.

Tripping on a flagstone he almost pitched forwards onto his hands; it was a good job the lamp post was there and he clung to it like a drowning man reassured by its firm presence. A wheezy cough escaped his lips and sent arrows of pain throughout his chest, the fog was chipping away at him its dampness invaded his air passages.

A sound made him jump – dear God what was that? Heart hammering he almost jumped out of his skin until he realised it was his new ring tone. Tearing the phone from his back pocket he squinted at its screen but there were too many tears in his eyes, it was easier to accept the call.

An unfamiliar and extremely gruff voice snapped into his ear barking an instruction, move ahead twenty yards and turn left then keep going until you reach the shop the door will be open.

Why would a shop be open at near to midnight on an evening like this, I mean who would use it?

"Who are you," Kevin demanded but the line was already dead. Blinking his eyes clear he demanded caller identity.

NO CALLS he was told. Kevin frowned that was absurd he'd just received one, was his phone defective? Not sure why he let go of the post and stumbled ahead until reaching a corner then heading down this he came to the shop; it wasn't one he'd ever seen before in fact he was sure it hadn't been there the other day; wasn't this an area of condemned derelict houses?

_Out of Time_ said the sign above the door and through the metal grill over the window he could see clocks, dozens of them; every style and period you can think of and all of them were working ticking away behind the glass. The really odd thing was that they all told different times and checking his own watch Kevin discovered that none of the clocks were accurate.

Many of them had days and dates on them but none of the dates where in the current year, some were back in the past such as 1963 or 1975 and a few were oddly in the future. Who the devil owned a clock shop in this town? Kevin was sure the last such business had closed when he was a kid, driven out by one of the big chains.

He tried the door amazed to find that was indeed unlocked, bit dodgy in this day and age with burglaries endemic surely.

"Hello," he called tremulously wondering if this was a set up or practical joke. "Is there anyone here," good grief he sounded like one of those television clairvoyants. Taking a step inside he tried to make out any details but apart from the constant ticking of the clocks and an odd background hum there was nothing.

"I'm not coming inside unless I hear a voice," he said wheezing quite badly now his lungs feeling like they had two big fists squeezing them. When there was no response he backed out of the doorway sharpish and bumped into the figure.

With a cry of shock Kevin turned to see a long cloak or cape, a hood of all things covered the head and the man wore gloves. He wasn't especially tall but he did radiate the impression of power and intent, in the left glove was a walking cane and the man leaned on this over a finger of the right glove was a ring. Who wore a ring over a glove? The stone in the centre of the ring was glowing very brightly yet there were no street lamps close by so it was hard to see where the light was coming from.

About to run Kevin was transfixed when the ring hand rose, moved swiftly towards him and the ring stone touched the centre of his chest. At once he experienced a curious electric tingle inside his ribs that spread inwards and outwards across both lungs then up both bronchial tubes to his trachea; rising up this to this throat the energy wave made his tongue grow extremely hot as though he'd just eaten a strong curry.

At first his instinct was to pull away but as the power expanded yet further within him he found it highly pleasurable and something else was happening to, he had lost his wheeze and the crushing pressure in his chest was easing. The asthma attack which he had felt sure was coming began to dissipate, even his sinus cavity was relaxing and the desire to cough left him. He felt….well he felt amazing better than he had in years.

The ring left him but the heat remained in his body. Lowering his hand the mysterious man nodded as though satisfied then gestured for Kevin to move back into the shop. This time Kevin felt less resistant to the idea. This stranger had done something amazing to him, something impossible.

Light came on from somewhere although the caped figure hadn't touched any switches and the interior of a perfectly normal if rather archaic shop materialised around Kevin. Old fashioned shelves populated by yet more clocks, a big central desk on which was a bell of all things and a phone out of the Victorian age with a rotor not buttons and a tube-shaped receiver lying on a cradle.

There was an inkwell and in this a nibbed pen not unlike the sort of thing Charles Dickens might have used, no computer, no fax, nothing remotely 21st century.

The caped man threw back his hood to reveal that he was indeed elderly, an old man but certainly not feeble. Distinguished was the word Kevin would have used, a gent possibly a scholar of some kind. The eyes were fiercely bright and penetrating, the features pinched and the demeanour a trifle haughty.

"What did you do to me," Kevin asked without any trace of phlegm in his throat, "My asthma seems to have receded," he knew this could not be; no medicine worked so fast or so totally and this man hadn't used medicine he'd used a ring that glowed.

"Yes your complexion is a lot better," snapped the old man with a chuckle in his voice. Pushing the shop door to he still didn't lock it yet Kevin got the impression no one could enter here unless invited.

"Did you send me that email," Kevin had only come out tonight because of that message it had shocked him to the core?

"Surely the answer to that question is obvious young man," the voice held a trace of irritation as though its owner had little tolerance for foolish questions.

"You said this was the last night of my life," Kevin objected recalling the sickening jolt of just an hour ago.

"I think I said it could be," came the correction as ring and gloves were removed, the ring was replaced on the middle finger oddly it wasn't glowing anymore but there still seemed to be power emanating from it.

"How come my computer said 'sender unknown', and then on my phone it said 'no calls'?"

A rather smug grin spread across the narrow, angular face as if this man could do anything he liked without the restrictions of current technology. "Why is my life going to end tonight," Kevin demanded.

Moving to the desk the old man brought his hand down on top of the bell; its peel rang sharply through the air. At once every clock in the shop stopped ticking simultaneously.

"Not just your life young man but that of every person on this planet."

The background hum was now much stronger a clear pulsation. Planet had he said, why not just say 'the world'?

Regaining some of his old composure now Kevin took a deep comfortable breath, yes that felt much better it emboldened him enough to challenge what he was being told; which on the surface was absurd.

The bell peeled again but this time the old man hadn't touched it and one moment later the loud ticking of the clocks resumed.

"There, we've arrived."

Kevin was at a loss to understand this remark, he looked through the window outside it was still night time and still foggy nothing had changed.

The old man waved at the shop door, "I think you should go outside," he said.

"You're throwing me out, I've only just gotten here," Kevin objected? Ignoring this remark the odd figure took out a small pocket watch, checked it and offered it.

"Take this just to be on the safe side, I'd come with you but I don't think that's a good idea."

Before Kevin could ask why not the shop door opened of his its volition, the fog had cleared a little and it was possible to make out some details of the street such as the old fashioned Vauxhall car parked close by a real antique that hadn't been there before.

The air smelled different somehow and Kevin couldn't figure out why at first, not until he saw the smoking chimneys; smoke was coming from the roof of every property he could see in thick, choking grey waves. Smoke? Who had coal fires these days? There was something else to, something absent from the rooftops he could see that had been there before, but this didn't register in his brain until later.

"Hurry along young man, time is slipping through your fingers at a rate of knots."

"Why bring me in here just to throw me out a few moments later?"

"You've been on a little journey," said the paternal voice. Yes thought Kev into and out of a shop not exactly a journey more a distraction.

"I'm sure this shop wasn't here yesterday," he said.

"Yesterday is precisely where it was," came the confusing reply, "And tomorrow," a chuckle flowed out of these words high pitched and slightly mocking. "Now run along there's a good fellow."

Faced with little choice Kev went to the door, he still had no idea who the shop owner was, a lunatic possibly certainly eccentric in nature then he touched his own chest and took another deep, unrestricted breath – no pain, no mucus, no cough – he was an asthmatic without asthma.

"What are you going to do," he asked?

The old face became stern, "As much as I can given the nature of the problem now make haste," there was a plea in the small bright eyes a look of near panic Kev thought as he exited into the thinning fog. Another ancient car drove past him up the street, some relic his Granddad might have driven yet it looked oddly brand new. The couple in it wore garish clothing and the man had more hair than the woman with a huge tie, dated music could be heard blaring from the car stereo.

What was going on was this a nostalgia night or something?

A cough alerted him to the presence of a tall figure over on the left a man in a long maroon coat with an impossibly large knitted scarf wrapped several times around an upturned collar, a wide brimmed hat sat atop a mass of dark curls. The man waved Kevin to join him and warily the book dealer did so, thinking that it was his night for meeting eccentrics. This one seemed younger and more robust but his manner was just as terse, "No questions," he said in a deep baritone killing the half a dozen on Kev's lips stone dead.

"Come on," long strides took the man ahead of Kevin, across the road, onto the far pavement and along it to the rear of a derelict-looking building not a shop this time but a warehouse. Upon reaching a gate the man gave it a hearty shove and it flew inwards, the yard exposed was wide and dirty with litter everywhere and down one side stood a row of barrels like sentries.

"We need to get inside this building, how are you at jemmying locks," asked the man then not waiting for a reply he said, "That one over there," he indicated a large window with a decaying wooden frame and rusty clasp.

"I'm not a burglar," Kev objected feeling very put out by the man's overbearing attitude.

"Just as well with those clod hopping feet," the man shot back, "Just see what you can do."

"Why don't you jemmy the window," Kev snapped?

"I thought we'd discussed the matter of questions and their lack of value in our relationship," came the ironic but denying response. Needing a tool Kev looked around and very soon came across a rusty pipe of decent length, he was soon employing this trying to prize the window open with little effect.

He heard the tall man make a disgusted sound and stamp his feet with impatience, there was nothing for it though but to persist. If curls wasn't going to lend a hand then Kev was on his own. "I don't see why we can't just a door," he grunted, "This place is derelict anyway."

Blowing vapour into the air the tall man edged a little closer, "Put your back into it," he said. I'm doing my best Kev wanted to argue but an agonizing groan filled the air followed by the hollow crunch of rotten wood disintegrating then the clasp gave a short, defeated snap.

The recalcitrant window opened with a protesting whine. Offering neither thanks nor praise the tall man placed a foot on the sash and athletically launched himself through the gap with a look that said _you to._

Kev's entry was a lot more laboured and involved a good deal of straining, heaving, sweating and tearing away of dead wood. Not providing him with any assistance the tall man flicked on a torch and panned this from side to side; strangely the torch was giving off a crackling noise like a Geiger counter might make. Big eyes peered from under the brim of the untidy hat and giving a single nod their owner turned to his unwilling apprentice.

"This is definitely the place."

For what Kev wondered – cockroaches?

"Look I know you don't like questions," he began and the man snapped.

"Oh go on then I can tell you're dying to voice one or two dozen, just try to ration yourself."

"Who are you and who is that old man in the clock shop?"

"We're," a word was hunted for, "Related."

Unable to see how as they were totally different Kev said, "What is it you're both looking for?"

"A way to save this time line," with a sudden darting movement the tall man went over to a door, kicked it open and stood framed in a corona of weak but very odd even ghostly green light; the origins of which were unclean not that Kev was sure he wanted to know.

A sigh escaped the tall man's lips, now he didn't appear so happy or sure of himself. "I can't go any further," he announced stepping aside, "But you can," he said. The green light was coming from a kind of upright metal cabinet that seemed to be made of gold or a metal very like it.

Big enough to walk into the cabinet frightened Kev for a number of reasons, but chiefly because it seemed so unearthly. He didn't know what it was and wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

"I sell books," he declared taking a step back, "Rare collector's items, cheap science fiction mostly. I'm not very brave nor do I see myself as some kind of hero. I don't like games like this or…."

"Games," the deep voiced man interrupted like he'd heard the worst kind of obscenity, his head was shaking and in the big eyes Kev was sure he could detect genuine pain if not utter distress.?

"Well what is it then what are we doing," Kev blurted. The only reply was a jabbing finger and it was aimed at the green glow.

"No," the book seller had at last found a semblance of courage, "I'm not going any further until you explain yourself to me."

The big eyes closed unhappily and the head behind the scarf shook as if in disappointment. Then rapidly the hat was whisked off to allow a voluminous bell of thick curly hair its escape, below it the massive bulging eyes appeared to swell even larger like two moons. The scarf came off next, whipped back away from a sharp thrusting nose and a large mouth that was all teeth.

Taking a deep breath the tall man seemed about to erupt into a furious tirade but instead when his spoke his voice was low and grave, "All right," came the hiss, "If you don't do this your time line will implode, reality as you know it will cease to exist and the human race will be wiped out."

He paused to look deeply into Kevin's eyes, "I know how all that sounds and that you probably think I'm insane, but believe me I'm not over dramatising the severity of this situation. You are the only one who can stop the implosion, I can't do it or I would have."

"Why am I the only one who can stop it," Kevin asked in a put upon voice he was nothing special he wasn't even a good seller of books. Truth be sold he was terrible at selling anything and his small business was teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"Because," said the man resting a hand on his back, "Because," he repeated and then he shoved Kevin very hard into the green light. Propelled by amazing strength Kevin flew into the cabinet and right through it, he couldn't stop himself nor was there anything to grab hold of; the edges of the cabinet was insubstantial. So he shot into the green glow, through and beyond it.

One second later he was outside in the fresh air, it was daylight a blue sky shone above him; he was in the countryside stood on grass with trees over on his left about a mile away. Utterly dazed he squinted until his eyes adjusted; it took his sanity a bit longer. Where was London, where was the fog and where had the tall man gone?

"Ah at last," a voice with a soft Celtic burr made him jump it drew his attention to a small mound upon which sat a slightly built man holding a small umbrella. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever get here," said the man uncoiling his legs to stand up and amble over; he only came up to Kevin's chest.

First an old man then a tall man and now….

"I don't get it," Kevin gasped.

"London hasn't been built yet, it won't exist on this site for about a thousand years," the small man was smiling as he said this but his eyes shone with seriousness.

"What happened to the man who pushed me through that cabinet?"

"He is an earlier aspect of me and he's back in 1975 with the access portal," a hand rose to bat away another question. "Let's walk," came the suggestion and Kevin found himself falling into step with his odd host as they went down an incline to a dell of thin wiry trees and soft loam.

"A time implosion is about to occur," said the mildly Scottish voice, "The device that will trigger it is isomorphic it can only be turned off by a member of the race who built the bomb."

Scratching his left side burn Kevin tried to take this in, "What race would this be?"

Regarding him the small man sighed, "Even I can't pronounce their full name, more than 43 syllables, let's just say they are a war-like alien species."

"But what have they got to do with me," Kevin snapped thinking that was a soon to be unemployed ex shop owner with half a dozen GCSE's?

"Yes they told me the amnesia was well entrenched," said the small man talking to himself, "I've no wish to break the memory lock but there are a few things you need to know Kevin and it's fallen to my incarnation to explain them."

Just slightly ahead of them between two tall black barked trees was a curious artificial shape weaving in and out of existence, its shape blurring and twisting like an optical illusion. Strangely it was familiar to Kevin because it was something he saw every night in his dreams.

"You," said the small man, "Are not human, you just look and sound human; but like me you are from a distant planet and a far more advanced culture."

Unbelievably this guy was claiming to be an alien himself; and whilst oddly dressed he looked nothing more than a middle-aged man with a brolly.

"When your race was defeated some of them were put on trial, those found guilty were given a choice; you I think chose the wisest option a new identity."

"Hang on," Kevin interrupted, "You're saying that I'm alien a member of some hostile species – but that's bonkers I'm Kevin Williams I was born in Hull 24 years ago."

The puck face reflected sadness and a touch of irony, not a little compassion either.

"Oh thank goodness that isn't true," said the man, "You see you're the only one of your kind left on earth, the only one who can deactivate this device – a nasty little secret your leaders buried in the past."

The brolly waved making Kev look around at the dell, at first it seemed totally normal to him until he saw the rabbit frozen in mid-bound, then the sparrow frozen in mid-flight; the falling leaves suspended in the air.

"I don't understand it's like this reality is frozen," he said and the small man nodded.

"A temporal stasis field of my creation but it's breaking down, and once it does this timeline will be fatally ruptured."

The end of the world thought Kev the end of everything which is just what the triumvirate wanted once defeat became inevitable. Hold on rewind a bit, how did he know that, how did he know about the triumvirate – the trinity of military leaders at the head of the dark star alliance?

Something was happening to him a box at the back of his mind had creaked open and out of it were spilling ideas, images and memories of another time, another reality of flying through the cosmos wired to a living computer aboard a star ship.

Kev shook his head to erase these memories but he couldn't, once stimulated they took root in his brain.

"I'm not a book seller," he said, "I'm not from Hull; I'm more than five thousand years old and a pilot."

A finger touched him between the eyes and the pressure behind them eased a bit, "You must turn off the device," said a cool persuasive voice, "Or all this has been for nothing."

The bizarre morphing, phasing shape ahead seemed a bit more solid, slightly more real; it was a column of 4 interlinked boxes with a terminal on the second box up – basically face height for Kevin. When he looked at the controls he knew what they were and how to work them; knew that as well as being a pilot he also had military engineering knowledge.

"I constructed this," he cried. Yes said the little man's eyes I know, that's why you're the best one to disarm it. Approaching the bomb Kevin marvelled at the brilliance of its design, it was the product of a great and noble civilisation undefeated until they met…

"Doctor," he gasped looking at the man with him in a new way, he was the Doctor and so where the other men met this night; impossible yet true, three aspects of the same being and all three had combined their talents to defeat the Alliance. "You tricked us," he said, "Imprisoned me on earth in this identity."

The small puck face reflected sadness, "The alternative was much worse Kevin; I saved your life."

"My name isn't Kevin it's…."

A finger touched his lips, "Forget about that, switch off the bomb and save an entire race; do something to make up for the crimes of the past."

Crimes – was conquest a crime, was victory a crime?

Kevin faced the terminal its controls morphed to adapt to his human hands, he knew exactly what to do which field to deactivate first to prevent the implosion which codes to input; only his touch could do it only his DNA would be accepted.

"If I don't do this," he whispered.

"Mankind will cease," the Doctor sighed.

"But my own race…."

"Are already gone," said the time lord, "Long gone, destroying earth won't bring them back and if it dies then so will you."

Kevin was torn between his human identity with all its associated feelings and the powerful memories surging through him, the old pride; the old defiance.

"Will you die to Doctor?"

"Possibly," came the concession.

"Then I'd be avenging my race by destroying their nemesis."

"What of the billions of other souls on this planet, do they deserve to die in the name of revenge?"

Kevin's hands shook as he touched a pad it flashed soft green under his fingers. "I know what to do and it will only take moments."

"Then," said the Doctor, "Use those moments wisely."

Another pad turned orange and the column began to vibrate as arcs of blue light shot up from its apex into the clouds.

"Ours was a glorious legacy, our empire spanned a galaxy."

Kevin recalled the great fleet, so huge that its ships could fill a solar system. No one could resist the Alliance; all fell before it and in his mind the old songs came flooding back, rich and patriotic, proud and dominating.

"I don't want to do this," he croaked removing his hands from the pads, "It would be a betrayal of our leaders."

"Leaders steeped in blood," said the Doctor, "Leaders who had no regard for the many lives they snuffed out men, women and children whose worlds they torched and burned after ripping out all the precious resources. Where's the glory in that, where's the honour. They had to be stopped or they'd have done that to earth and many other planets, where would it have ended?"

Hands going back on the pads Kevin worked delicate circuits, within a very short space of time the hum of power coming from the device was softer and more melodious. Stepping back Kevin wiped tears from his face, in his mind the patriotic songs had dimmed their guttural harshness now revolted him.

Placing a hand on his arm the Doctor nodded, "Thank you," he said.

"Is it over?"

The small man studied the shimmering silver column but the smile on his lips had frozen and soon it was gone altogether, yanked violently back Kevin found himself running with the Doctor to the cover of some bushes. Barely a pulse beat later the device flashed a multitude of vivid colours that spiked out from its centre; then the entire column was sucked into a central hub.

The implosion hadn't been prevented it had been initiated. But I switched it off Kevin thought I rendered it harmless.

"How," he cried but the man beside him was stony faced with concern.

"I've been tricked," he said softly taking a slim instrument from a back pocket and panning it over the dell, after one particular sweep the instrument issued a sharp pulsing note. "We've both been tricked," he added, "That was just a relay - the real device has been cloaked."

"But that can't be true I built the bomb and that was definitely it," Kevin argued. Could his memories have been faulty had he made a mistake?

"Think," said the Doctor, "Did anyone else work on the bomb where you part of a team or did you have a partner?"

So long ago so much time had passed, "I'm not sure I can't remember,"

Kevin spluttered, "You said you imprisoned me here Doctor did you imprison others of my kind?"

Veronica shivered as the fog bit deep into her bones, how she wished she were back on campus; going to Marie's birthday bash would be preferable to this even though the two girls didn't like each other.

A sound made her jump, it was some seconds before she realised it was her Nokia. From it came an unfamiliar voice – a gruff old man who barked directions. When she demanded user ID from the phone it flashed up NO CALLS.


End file.
